19. Sophie #2
I nodded. “Excellent. See? We have a plan.” It wasn’t a good plan. More of an enthusiastic collection of hopeful sentences duct-taped together. But technically it qualified as one.
And then that’s when I heard the sirens.
Ohhhh crap.
The sound bounced off the storefronts behind us, growing louder by the second. One siren. Then another quick burst.
My stomach dropped so fast it probably qualified as an unauthorized emergency descent.
Very, very slowly… I looked into the rearview mirror.
White SUV. Blue lights. SHERIFF.
“Double crap.” I gripped the wheel tighter. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Dottie twisted around in her seat. “What?”
“The sheriff.”
She craned her neck toward the mirror. “Oh dear.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Oh, that’s definitely him.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I can read SHERIFF on the side.”
“So can I,” I hissed.
“And he’s coming toward us rather quickly.”
“That’s generally how law enforcement chases work.”
Dottie’s eyes grew wider by the second. “We’re going to jail.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never stolen a truck before. I’m not entirely familiar with the process.”
“And now the sheriff is chasing us!”
I sighed. “I know.”
“The same sheriff you kissed!”
I winced, knowing Lola had already told her. “Please don’t say it like that.”
“How should I say it?”
“I don’t know!”
Behind us, the siren gave another short burst.
I glanced into the mirror again. The sheriff’s SUV stayed a safe distance behind the trailer. Not trying to ram us. Not trying to force us off the road. Just following.
Captain Competent. Doing his job. Because that’s who he was.
Just yesterday he’d been holding me while we danced. Last night he’d kissed me. And this morning, he was trying to arrest me. Talk about emotional range.
“I think he’s trying to tell us to pull over,” said Dottie. “You should stop.”
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
“You have to.”
“I won’t.”
She stared at me. “Sophie… this won’t end well if we keep going.”
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “If I stop…” My voice caught. I was high on emotions with a bit of stupid. I just had to get to the vet.
Behind us, the sheriff’s SUV matched our speed effortlessly.
I frowned. “I don’t think this qualifies as a chase.”
Dottie was shaking her head. “What does it qualify as?”
“I think…” I glanced into the mirror again. “He’s politely pursuing us.”
Dottie blinked. “Only you could turn grand theft livestock into a courteous sheriff escort.”
Damnit. Before things got worse—because let’s face it, they probably would—the local vet clinic came into view. I recognized the navy-blue siding with gray brick. The sign read MAPLEWOOD FALLS VETERINARY CLINIC in bold white letters.
“Hope he’s in,” I said, pulling the truck into the parking lot. Gravel crunched under the tires as I parked across half a dozen empty spaces. I didn’t exactly nail it. The trailer ended up slightly crooked. Frankly, considering the circumstances, I felt that counted as a victory.
I yanked the parking brake and killed the engine. Neither Dottie nor I moved. My heart hammered so hard I was fairly certain it qualified as attempted escape.
Dottie stared straight ahead. “If my life is about to end, at least I can say I made the most delicious zucchini relish in three counties.”
“Don’t say that. It’ll be fine.” God, I hoped so.
“So… what happens now?” asked Dottie.
I thought about it. “I’ll talk to the sheriff. He’ll understand. And then Dr. Keller can refer us to somewhere safe for the animals.”
Dottie nodded. “Okay. Good plan. I think.”
“It’s my only plan,” I told her, my blood pressure sky high. “And we already have them in the truck. We can take them ourselves.”
A loud knock on my window made me jump.
I spun around.
The sheriff.
He stood beside the driver’s door, his sunglasses gone and one hand resting on his duty belt. His jaw was tight, really tight, not Sheriff Face but Sheriff Face’s older, angrier brother. He looked mad as hell.
Oopsie.
Dottie swallowed. “He looks really mad.”
The tiny, ridiculous fantasy I’d secretly been nurturing over the last twelve hours packed its suitcase and walked straight out the front door. No more dancing. No more kissing. No more Captain Competent smiling at me. Just Sheriff Walker with a furious look on his face.
Did I regret stealing the truck? No. Did I regret the kiss? Definitely not. Did I regret the order in which those two events had occurred?
Immensely.
Another knock. This one firmer.
I swallowed hard and lowered the window.
The sheriff looked directly at me. “Get out of the truck, Hartwell.” His voice was low and controlled.
I plastered on a smile. “Sheriff, I can explain. The animals were going to auction. And they could’ve been separated.”
The sheriff’s face was still. “Get. Out. Of. The truck.”
Ouch. He’d used the sheriff voice. That wasn’t Captain Competent anymore. That was law enforcement.
I sighed. “Okay.”
Beside me, Dottie leaned closer. “I think he’s done flirting.”
I climbed out just as Dottie did the same. The morning air suddenly felt much colder.
The sheriff waited until both of us were standing beside the truck.
Dottie lifted both hands. “I just want the record to show this wasn’t my idea.”
I looked at her. “Seriously?”
Dottie gave a shrug. “What? I have brunch to prepare at the inn later.”
The sheriff didn’t smile. Not even a little.
I stepped toward him. Words started tumbling out.
“Listen, before you say anything, they were taking Bandit and Theo and Daisy and the little donkey to auction, and the handler said they could end up anywhere, maybe for meat, and I know how this looks, but when you actually hear the whole story, it becomes slightly less criminal than it appears—”
“Hartwell.”
“And Dr. Keller might know someone with a farm and I wasn’t keeping them forever because I don’t even own a farm and Sarah definitely doesn’t want a goat in the guest rooms although Bandit would probably be adorable at check-in—”
“Hartwell.”
“And technically we were bringing them to a veterinarian, which feels like a medically responsible kidnapping.”
“Sophie Hartwell,” the sheriff’s voice rose.
His tone made my mouth clamp shut. “What?”
“Turn around.”
I blinked. “What?”
His expression didn’t change. “Turn around.”
I did what he instructed. “This feels excessive.” I heard him step closer. The familiar metallic click echoed behind me. Then cold steel closed gently around one wrist. Followed by the other.
Click.
For one completely surreal second all I could think was, This was significantly less romantic than the last time he put his hands on me.